


Found Family

by Blood and Weetabix (melchiorstiefel)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic, Family, M/M, Married Life, Post-Season 10, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22892728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melchiorstiefel/pseuds/Blood%20and%20Weetabix
Summary: Just a fic about Ian, Mickey, Liam, and Franny, trying to get by when the rest of the family have scattered on the wind.Domestic fluff and some general wish-fulfilment stuff, intermingled with some of the more real issues that might come up if Ian and Mickey had to take care of Franny and Liam.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Liam Gallagher, Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich & Liam Gallagher & Franny Gallagher, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich & Franny Gallagher, Mickey Milkovich & Liam Gallagher
Comments: 45
Kudos: 207





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not technically my first multi-chapter fic... But it might be the first one that I've gone into with a clear plot idea, and thus the one I'm most likely to actually get around to updating :P
> 
> I could use a beta/editor. I can't read back my own fic well enough to edit it, and I am sure I'm going to have made some stupid errors in here.

Larry may be annoying as hell, but even Mickey can’t deny that he did good in finding him a security job. It’s not that Mickey wouldn’t do anything else – he ain’t going back in the joint, so he would scrape dogshit for a living if it meant he met his parole requirements – but it lets him flex his intimidation skills and it’s basically legal violence. What’s not to like?

And on some level, it’s also a throwback to when he was seventeen, hanging out at the Kash ’n’ Grab, running ‘security’. Sure, Ian isn’t here to shoot the shit with him at Old Army, but it still brings back memories.

“Hey Mickey, can I talk to you for a minute?” Okay, so not everything is rosy. Mickey still has to deal with annoying bosses and co-workers.

But Mickey isn’t a surly teenager anymore. He may still have a short fuse, but contrary to popular belief, he does know when to play nice.

“Sure, Rob, what’s up?”

“You’ve been doing a great job here, but I’m not sure the store needs its own security guard anymore. I mean, I’m sure you’ve noticed that shoplifting has basically stopped recently.”

Mickey narrows his eyes. “Hang on, you’re firing me? And shoplifting it only down because _I’m_ here! What the fuck, man?”

“Whoa. Wait. I’m not firing you.”

“Sure sounds like you are.”

“No, I was just going to tell you that there’s an opening in the mall’s own security office. Jess is going on maternity leave, and they need someone to take her place. It’s basically a promotion.”

That stops Mickey dead. He hasn’t had many jobs over the years, but he definitely hasn’t ever had anything that might constitute a promotion. Linda trained him on the cash register at the Kash ’n’ Grab for that week that Ian was off ill, but that felt more like a form of torture than a promotion. 

“I dunno man. Surely they must have someone else they want for the job instead?”

“You’re good at your work. Don’t downplay it. And I already cleared it with Larry, so don’t worry about that.” When Mickey doesn’t respond, Rob continues, “I’ll take you up to the mall security office, and you can meet the team. Just take today to settle in, and then you can get started properly next week.”

Mickey just nods mutely and lets Rob lead the way. 

“Have you been to the security office before?” Rob asks as they’re in the elevator, and Mickey snorts out a laugh.

“Have I been in the security office?” He echoes. “Many times, man. I bet half the team already know me by name.” It’s probably not something he should say to his boss, but it’s not like he didn’t know what he was getting into when he hired a convicted felon on parole.

“Yeah, okay. Stupid question. I guess I just forgot that you were a true local.”

“South side. Through-and-through.”

* * *

As it turns out, Mickey only knows one of the guys in the security office, and that’s only because he used to buy meth from Iggy. The team is small, just the four of them, and now Mickey can see that they really did need someone to fill out the numbers, and that Rob wasn’t just trying to stroke his ego by giving him this promotion. 

But his co-workers are easy-going enough that even Mickey gets along with them just fine, and he even gets to sit down when he’s manning the cameras rather than out on patrol. It’s not really something he ever thought about, but his gunshot wounds sure don’t ache so much when he doesn’t have to stand around all day. 

“Ah shit,” Mickey stands up suddenly. “Is it really 6:00 already? I gotta get home.”

“Sure,” Greg says, spinning around in his chair. “It’s quitting time anyway. It’s Friday, though. Normally, we go out for drinks after work on a Friday. You’re welcome to come along too.”

Mickey chews on his lip as he considers the offer. It’s probably rude to decline, especially when you’re the new guy and are probably being watched warily, but he really doesn’t want to go out right now. 

“Sorry man, I can’t. Gotta get home.”

“Ah,” Steph pipes up from the next room. “That means his girlfriend’s gonna bust his balls if he’s even a minute late home!”

“Hey, fuck you!” Mickey shouts back through a laugh. “I gotta get home to my husband and the kids!”

And _shit_ . It’s not that he’s ashamed of being gay or any shit like that. Not anymore. But he sure didn’t mean to tell his coworkers his entire life story on the first day of work. 

Sure enough: 

“You have a husband?!” Greg exclaims.

“You have _kids_?!” Steph supplies.

“Fuck!” Mickey sighs. “Yeah, I got married last year. His name’s Ian.”

“Wow. You’re only, what… 24?” Greg squints.

“Nice to know I still have my youthful looks. I’m 26. Known him since we were kids, though. Been together for most of the past decade.”

“Wow. I don’t think I could have made it last with a girl from high school.”

“Yeah, well. I certainly didn’t know him from high school. I never really went.” Mickey laughs.

“Okay, but you have kids?” Steph presses.

“Well, kinda. It’s a long story, but there are two of them. Franny’s 5, and Liam’s 11.”

Mickey watches that one sink in and can almost see smoke coming out of his coworkers ears as they do the math. 

Finally, Greg snaps his fingers and turns a confused stare on Mickey. “You were FIFTEEN when you had a kid?” 

Mickey laughs once again at that. “Like I said, it’s a long story, but he’s not mine.” He decides to leave out the fact that he did in fact have a son at eighteen. It’s not something he mentions often, and he hasn’t seen Yevgeny in nearly four years now. It’s certainly not going to help their rapidly-forming image of him as some piece of white trash. 

Greg breaks the silence with a clap. “Go on. Get home to your man and your kinda-sorta-kids.” Mickey turns to pick up his coat and has one foot out of the door when Greg calls after him “But you’re not getting out of this. You’re coming for drinks with us next week!” 

Mickey throws a middle finger Greg’s way as the door closes behind him. 

* * *

Mickey braces himself as he pushes open the front door. It’s not that he’s scared or nervous about entering the house, but it’s the Gallagher house. Even if you think you know who’s at home, there could be anywhere from 0 to 125 people crowded into that living room. 

As he rounds the corner and sees Franny in front of the TV and hears the sound of the fridge opening, but not much else, he relaxes. 

“Hey, squirt,” Mickey calls as he passes behind the couch, reaching over to ruffle Franny’s hair, “your uncle in the kitchen?”

Franny nods her head under Mickey’s hand, without turning away from the TV, and Mickey’s about to ask her what’s wrong when Ian pokes his head through the kitchen doorway. 

“Hey, Mick, can you come help me with something?”

Mickey raises his eyebrows at the strange note in Ian’s tone, but takes his hand back and makes his way into the kitchen, taking his coat off and throwing it on the table as he passes. 

He sidles up to his husband, who is doing the dishes, and wraps his arms around his waist from behind. “Hey.” 

Ian laughs and reaches one arm back around Mickey’s waist. “Hey yourself. You know, wrapping your arms around me would work a lot better if you could actually see over my shoulder.” 

“I love you too, asshole.” Mickey grumbles, taking his arms back. “What’s up with Franny?”

Ian sighs, putting the plate he was washing back into the bowl and turns to face Mickey. “Debbie called today.” 

“Oh. She okay?”

“She’s… coping.” Ian cuts a look across to the dining table, and Mickey follows his gaze to find Liam with his head in a textbook. Ian continues slowly, clearly leaving out some details to spare whatever innocence Liam has left. “Looks like she’s not going to be getting out early, though.”

“Shit.” Mickey rubs a hand over his face, but pulls it away when a thought occurs to him. “Wait, did she tell Franny that?” 

Ian laughs a little at that. “She’s not _that_ braindead, Mick.” 

“I know, I just thought… It’s been four months, I guess I always figured Franny would be used to her not being here.”

“I don’t want her to have to get used to that.”

“It’s good that she hasn’t,” Mickey assures him. “We sure as shit never lost any sleep over Terry being locked up.”

Ian fixes a glare on him. “You did not just compare my little sister to Terry.” 

“Obviously not. Fucksake, Ian, you know what I meant.”

“Yeah. It’s good that she misses her.”

Mickey sits up on the counter, watching as Ian washes the last few dishes, and considering his next move carefully. 

“So, this isn’t going to make things easier for us, but I may have got some intel that DCFS are sniffing around here.”

Ian doesn’t seem at all surprised by that, which itself surprises Mickey. 

“You knew?”

“I think they did a drive-by earlier. Or at least, someone came by, and Vee and I are pretty sure it was that social worker from the last time we went into the system.”

“Shit. What’s our plan?”

“I think we’re in the clear. Debbie signed over temporary rights to me. And we’re married, so that should help.”

Mickey sighs, glancing across at the dining table again. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“… Oh. I guess I forgot about that.” Ian looks guilty.

“Hey. It’s not your fault. But we need to talk to her. Get our stories straight, at the very least.”

Ian turns towards Mickey and grins his stupid grin at him. “Look at you, making plans to take care of our family.” 

“Fuck off. I just don’t wanna have to deal with DCFS anymore than the bare minimum.” Mickey lies, flushing slightly under Ian’s gaze.

Ian reaches for a towel to dry off his hands, and then brings his hand up to cup Mickey’s neck and steps in between his legs before leaning in for a kiss. He pulls back slightly, and runs this thumb over the back of Mickey’s neck, lightly. 

“I’ll call her tomorrow,” he murmurs as he leans back in.

“You guys know I can hear you, right?” Liam finally pipes up. “I know you’re talking about Fiona.”

Ian winces as he pulls away from Mickey, but Mickey takes charge of the conversation, turning around to look at Liam. 

“Sorry bud. We just gotta figure something out. I’m not letting them take you away.”

Ian smirks and wraps himself back around Mickey, his chin settling on Mickey’s shoulder. 

“I know,” Liam says, clearing his throat and sitting up straight in his chair, before dropping his voice an octave, “‘We’re a family. We gotta stick together.’”

Mickey’s eyebrows fly up into his hairline. “That supposed to sound like me? I have _never_ said that.” 

“It’s implied.” Ian mumbles into Mickey’s neck.

“Whatever, tough guy. You done with your homework?”

Liam sighs. “No, I got a few more problems to do.” 

“Come on, bring it into the living room, and we’ll watch a film. I think it’s Franny’s turn to pick, though.”

“That’s totally unfair. She picked last week!”

Ian fixes a stern glare on Liam. “Liam Fergus Beircheart Gallagher, listen to your father!” It’d be scary if it weren’t for the way Ian’s voice cracks at the end and how he ends up in a fit of giggles after saying it. 

“If I’m supposed to be his father, this family might need more therapy than I thought.” Mickey rolls his eyes.

“Come on. We’ll order in pizza,” Ian decides. “I can’t be fucked with cooking.”

“It ain’t cooking if you’re just taking things from the freezer and putting them in the oven,” Mickey pronounces.

“Okay. Well, I can’t be fucked with taking things from the freezer and putting them in the oven,” Ian corrects with a laugh.

* * *

They’ve fallen into somewhat of a routine when it comes to watching movies together. Franny will usually take a space on the floor, back against the couch, while Liam takes the armchair. Ian will sit on one end the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, and that leaves space for Mickey to lie across the rest of the couch, with his head in Ian’s lap. 

Today, as the film goes on, Ian starts running his fingers through Mickey’s hair, and Mickey loses track of the plot of the film, focussing instead on his husband’s strong fingers massaging his head. 

Mickey shifts himself around a little, moving his head to look away from the TV and up at Ian’s face, smiling dopily when Ian glances down to meet his gaze. 

“If you guys are gonna fuck, can you at least leave the room first?” Liam chastises as he puts his math book down on the coffee table.

“We are _not_ fucking,” Mickey replies.

“You’re just staring at each other.”

And that’s not exactly untrue. 

“Yeah, well… I like spending time with my _husband_. Nothing wrong with that.” Ian grins.

“Whatever.” Liam waves his hand dismissively. “I’m done with my homework. Can you check this for me, Mickey?”

“Me? The fuck you think I know?”

Ian tuts and refocusses his attention on the film, his fingers stilling in Mickey’s hair. “He’s not falling for that one, Mick. It’s his math homework, and we all know you’re gonna check over it in the morning whether he asks you to or not. Might as well do it now.” 

Mickey grumbles indistinctly under his breath as he sits up on the couch, taking the book off the table, and reading. After a minute, he turns to Liam. “Looks good to me, but check the third one again. I think you missed something.” 

* * *

They turn the film off when there are still 30 minutes left, as they notice Franny falling asleep against the back of the couch. 

Ian scoops her up off the floor and goes to take her up to bed, leaving Mickey and Liam alone in the living room. 

Mickey remembers always feeling uncomfortable around the Gallagher house, many years ago, but he’s never been uncomfortable around Liam. Granted, Liam was only young at the time, but he was always the easiest to be with. They might even have bonded back then. It’s kinda weird, in retrospect. 

“What’s going to happen with DCFS? Cut the bullshit,” Liam asks, his voice wavering a bit.

Mickey sighs. “I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t think Ian wants me to tell you this, but it could go south very quickly.” 

“I already know that. But how?”

“We might have to get Frank to make a token appearance. He’s still technically got parental rights, right?”

“Yeah,” Liam responds, “He had to sign that thing for me at school last year, remember?”

“Right.”

They slip into silence for a moment before Mickey speaks again. 

“We’re not letting you go without a fight. We’re gonna get our stories straight with Fiona, and with Carl and Lip. And I guess with Vee and Kev, too. And if we have to, I guess Ian might have to apply for guardianship.”

“Just Ian?”

“Well, I’ll be on the application too,” Mickey starts, “but it’s Ian’s relationship to you that might make the difference. But hey,” Mickey turns to face Liam, “This is gonna work out. Fiona, Debbie, and Lip may be gone, but we’re not going anywhere.”

“Debbie’s in prison,” Liam says flatly. “I wouldn’t bet against either you or Ian ending up there too.”

“Debbie’s in prison on a statutory rape charge. I haven’t had sex with anyone under eighteen since…” Mickey pauses. “Well, since Ian was 17, funnily enough. And Ian’s on his meds. He ain’t gonna go blowing up any more vans, I promise you.”

“Okay.” Liam stands up. “I’m going up to bed. See you, Mickey.”

“See ya, kid. Night.”

* * *

When Mickey finally makes his way upstairs, after locking up and throwing in a load of laundry, Ian is lying in their bed.

Mickey stands in the doorway, just staring appreciatively at his husband for a moment, watching as a leer develops on Ian’s face.

“You coming in, or just gonna stand there?”

“I was kinda hoping you’d be the one coming in,” Mickey says, shucking his clothes.

“Okay, cornball,” Ian laughs, as Mickey climbs into bed next to him. Ian rolls over and wraps his arms around Mickey’s waist and pulls him in close.

“You have the entire rest of the bed to yourself, Gallagher. Why you crowding up in my space,” Mickey grumbles.

“Okay, first, you’re a Gallagher too. You even changed your fucking surname. Without telling me first, I might add!” Ian laughs. “Second, I like to hold my husband, and I happen to know he likes it too.”

“Sure. Whatever, man. So, I had a crazy day at work?”

“Some kid try to steal half the shop?”

“Nah. Well, maybe. I wasn’t actually there to check. Got some stupid promotion to general mall security.

“No fucking way,” Ian plants an exaggerated kiss onto Mickey’s neck. “That’s amazing, Mick.”

“Whatever you say,” Mickey murmurs, but he blushes nonetheless. “It’s just the same job, in a different office. You know?”

“Sure.”

“Anyway. It’s weird working with a team. I was flying solo at Old Army, but now I gotta like… communicate with people and shit.”

“Communicate with people and shit,” Ian echoes. “You really are a people-person.”

“Shut up. They invited me out for drinks after work. Felt awkward as fuck, turning them down.”

“You know I wouldn’t have minded if you’d gone out with them, just so long as you let me know.”

“Yeah, well,” Mickey shrugs.

“Aw, babe. You wanted to come home to your family?”

“I fucking married you. It really a surprise I wanna spend my evenings with you?”

“You should go out with them on Monday, after work.”

“They’re not gonna give me a fucking choice.”

“Just text me to let me know when you’re gonna be back.”

“Fuck that,” Mickey laughs. “I’m texting you _before_ we go out, and you’re coming to meet up with us. Drop the kids off with Lip or Vee… Heck, drop ’em off at the fucking prison daycare for Debbie, I don’t care. You’re coming.”

Ian groans as he rolls back over onto his side of the bed. “You’re just signing me up for shit now?” 

“Yeah, get used to it. I already told them I couldn’t go out tonight because I had to get home to my husband and kids.”

“You’ve known them for four hours, and you already told them about me and my fucked up family?”

“Our fucked up family,” Mickey corrects, rolling over to rest his head against Ian’s chest. “Now go to sleep, bitch. Lip’s probably going to come by at the ass-crack of dawn because he has no concept of what a sensible time to be awake on a weekend is.”

“Night Mick,” Ian yawns.

“Night,” Mickey replies, shifting his head to get comfortable on Ian’s chest. “Love you.”

After a minute of silence, Ian speaks again.

“Hey, Mick?”

“What?”

“You do know prisons don't have a daycare, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next: Ian gets in touch with Fiona, and meets Mickey's work colleagues. The murmurs about DCFS snooping around heat up a little.
> 
> I am going to be mostly ignoring the minute details of how family law works in Illinois, but I'm not going to make it too unbelievable, either.
> 
> I'm also not going to bring too many more central characters in. Carl might pop up every now and then, and so might Lip and Vee, but Debbie isn't going to get much focus. The entire plot hinges on Debbie NOT being there, after all.
> 
> Also, this fic takes place a few months after 10x12. Ian and Mickey have been married for around 4-5 months, Franny's 5, and Liam's 11.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know chapter one mostly followed Mickey, but that was kinda an accident of how the storytellng worked best for that. Here on out, sections are going to be Ian-focussed too. It won’t be full chapters of each, and I think Mickey will probably get more focus, especially in the first few chapters, but I don’t think I can tell this story from a single focus character.
> 
> Also, this was going to be just the first PART of the second chapter, but I think this stands better alone.
> 
> Besides, writing this was kinda cathartic, but re-reading it to edit would have sent me over the edge, so sorry if anything came out a bit off.

Ian really doesn’t want to do this.

He knows he _has_ to do it, and it’s not like he hates talking to his older sister, but he’s preparing for the worst, and getting into a shouting match really isn’t how he wants to spend his Saturday morning.

Still, when Mickey herds Franny and Liam out of the door at 10:30 am, saying something about some nebulous ‘plans’ that they have, Ian can take that for what it clearly is: his husband’s loving way of telling him to man up and get on with it.

Ian hates him sometimes.

Even when he’s right.

So he sits back on the couch, presses the ‘call’ button, and holds the phone to his ear before he can back out.

“Hey sunshine!” God, Fiona sounds happy. That’s Ian’s first thought. It’s not the first time they’ve spoken since she left, not even by a long shot, but it still catches him off-guard how free she sounds.

And that just makes him feel bad about how he’s about to bring her day down.

“Hey, Fi,” he sighs, reclining further, and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.

“How are things going up there?” She asks, and Ian smiles at how she jumps straight into checking on them. It’s such a motherly thing to do, not that Ian would _ever_ dare call Fiona ‘motherly’ to her face.

Still, he supposes he owes Fiona a full update, not just a summary. “Debbie’s still in lock-up. Turns out her sugar momma pulled out some hotshot lawyer, and they’re trying to pin something else on her. It won’t stick, but it might make the court harsher when it finally does get to trial.”

“She sure knows how to pick ’em.”

“Yeah, like you and I were any better at her age!” Ian laughs.

“Exactly.” Fiona replies, deadpan.

“Anyway, she doesn’t want Franny to see her in jail, but we might be able to swing a visitation at a more neutral place soon. She hasn’t been tried yet, so it could happen.”

“You sure it’s a good idea?” Fiona asks, and Ian frowns.

“Am I sure it’s a good idea for Franny to see her mom? What the fuck, Fi?”

“I’m just saying. If they managed to stitch her up for a long sentence, is it a good idea to give Franny false hope before you know what’s happening?”

Ian sighs. “I guess not. But she misses her mom. _I_ miss Debbie, too. Fuck, I think even Mickey and Tami miss her!”

“Just be careful.”

“That should be our family motto.”

“How’s everyone else?”

“Lip still looks like a zombie most days. I think Freddie’s teething, but Tami won’t let me get them some lidocaine. What does the medical professional know, right?”

“You just don’t want Lip talking your ear off about how hard his life is.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Hey, don’t say that too loud – you’re a convicted felon, they’ll take you back to court for that!”

“Fuck you too.” Ian smirks.

“But how are _you_ , Ian?”

“I’m okay. Happy, actually. It’s weird.” Ian sighs. “I never thought I’d be a family man. I guess growing up in this family, I always thought someday I’d be able to get away from it all. But it turns out I don’t even want to.”

“Aww look at you. But how’s your husband dealing? Surely he doesn’t want all this?”

Ian rolls his eyes. “ _Mickey_ is… Actually, he’s pretty great. He never specifically wanted kids, but he takes Franny and Liam out. He’s out with them right now, actually. I swear he’s single-handedly keeping us afloat at the moment, and he hasn’t complained once, not even to me.”

“Wow, you let him be alone with the kids? Violent offender like Mickey?” Fiona laughs.

Realistically, Ian knows that she’s joking, but it still grates on him. “Yeah, well. It’s not like you nor I have clean rap sheets, Fi,” he intones, with a harsh edge.

“I’m only kidding. It’s great that you guys are doing well. And hey, two more weeks and I think you might officially have the most stable marriage in our family’s history.”

“Two more weeks?” Ian laughs. “Who are we competing against?”

“Well, back in ’01, Frank and Monica managed to stick around for a full six months. There’s your bar,” she teases.

“Thanks, Mrs Pfender.”

“Okay, I deserved that.”

“But speaking of stability…” Ian trails off.

“Shit, you thinking you might divorce him?”

Ian’s voice turns cold, and he steels himself for the change in conversation. “No. But DCFS have been sniffing around.”

“Fuck! I thought Debbie signed Franny over to you? Like, officially.”

“Are you and Mickey sharing a brain cell? That was his first response, too. No, I don’t think they’re after Franny.”

The line goes silent for a few seconds and Ian can almost hear Fiona’s brain turning that one over. He pushes his free hand through his hair.

“Shit. Liam.”

Ian laughs humorlessly. “Yeah. Liam,” he agrees. “Listen Fi, I think we need to get our stories straight.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Fiona replies with false cheer. “I’m just out of town on business.”

“You know they’re going to need more than that, Fi.”

“Well, what have you told them so far?”

“They haven’t come knocking yet. But Mickey has heard something from his contacts, and Vee and I are pretty sure we saw someone doing a drive-by yesterday.”

“I think you’re just being paranoid, sweetpea. It’ll blow over.”

“Really?” Ian throws his hand up as he stands up to start pacing. “That is your wisdom here? ‘It’ll blow over’? Thanks, Fi. That really solves our problems.”

“What the fuck, Ian?”

“No, don’t give me that. You skipped town on the one kid who was still in your care, and now you’re acting like DCFS won’t be interested in that? You think they don’t know that you’re not employed in Chicago anymore? That you sold your real estate?”

“Well, I don’t know what you want from me. Tell them whatever you want, and just let me know, in case they come knocking for me.”

“Thanks.” Ian laughs bitterly. “I’ll be sure to tell Liam that you don’t give a shit what happens to him, and maybe when DCFS turns up to take him away, you can tell me then that I’m over-reacting. After everything that you went through to keep us all in this home, you’re just going to abandon him now? Fuck you!” He takes a deep breath.

“I’m not listening to this. You know why I left. You know I had to do it for me. Call me when you’ve calmed down, and we can figure something out. Love you.”

The phone clicks off, and Ian fights the urge to throw it at the wall.

Instead, he pulls it away from his ear, and opens a new message.

> **To: Mick ❤** _  
> _ _we need to make a plan_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to be clear: I don't hate Fiona. But I think for the thrust of this story, Fiona kinda needs to be held accountable for abandoning Liam without any real plan for this situation.
> 
> Coming up next: Ian and Mickey make plans: about Liam, about Debbie, and about getting drinks with Mickey's co-workers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Talk™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been in my drafts untouched for around a month now. I'm still not super happy with it, but I don't think I can spend much time editing it. I want to get past this establishing stuff so we can get to the rest, yknow?
> 
> Anyway, there might be formatting errors - sorry about that!

When Mickey walks through the door a couple of hours later, Ian leaps out of his seat to wrap his husband up in a hug.

“Missed you,” he murmurs into his hair, and he hears Mickey mumble something back, but can’t make out the words. Still, being wrapped up in his arms calms him somewhat. And maybe Ian had sent himself spiralling a little since the phonecall earlier, but just being in Mickey’s arms, he knows they can work it out.

“Could you guys maybe hug a few feet that way?” Liam interrupts them. “Franny and I can’t get through the door.”

“Sorry, bud.” Mickey reaches a hand out and lightly pats the top of Liam’s head as Ian pulls away.

Ian squats down to Franny’s eye-level and Mickey tries his best to avoid staring blatantly at his ass. But he’s only human, and Ian _is_ his fucking husband, after all.

“Hey, Franny?” Ian coaxes. “Do you wanna spend the night at Aunt Vee’s? I hear Gemma and Amy are having a movie night.”

Franny pauses for a moment, looking up at Mickey, before turning back to Ian and nodding slightly.

“Why don’t you go get some toys and then we can go over soon, okay?”

She takes off up the stairs, and Ian stands back up. “That was easier than I expected.” Ian laughs.

Liam clears his throat as he makes his way towards the stairs. “You know, if you two want the house to yourselves tonight, I’m sure Lip wouldn’t mind me staying over there.”

Mickey shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other as Ian runs his hand through his hair.

“Actually, bud,” Mickey starts and then hesitates.

“We kinda need to talk to you,” Ian finishes, when it becomes clear that his husband isn’t going to go any further.

* * *

“Should we really be feeding the kid pizza two nights in a row?” Mickey grumbles as Ian hangs up the phone.

Ian snorts a laugh and throws his hand over the back of the couch, tangling his fingers in the hair at Mickey’s nape. “Right, because when we were eleven, we certainly never had the same shit every night for a week.”

Mickey smiles softly, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Fuck off, man. We never had a fucking chance. I thought we were trying to be like… good guardians and shit?”

“We’re actually feeding him. Compared to what we had, that’s a fucking miracle!” Ian declares.

“Liam!” Mickey calls up the stairs. “Your asshole brother’s gonna be here with pizza in twenty minutes.”

“Mickey!” Ian chastises, lightly smacking him across the head. “Don’t call him that.”

“Which one?” Liam calls back, and Mickey smirks.

“The asshole one!” Mickey laughs.

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Liam shouts as he makes his way downstairs.

It quickly becomes clear to Ian that this could go on for a while, and he decides to cut in. “Lip’s coming over with pizzas, and Carl should be back around the same time.”

Mickey wraps an arm around Ian’s waist and rests his against his husband’s shoulder. “You got any idea what we’re gonna do?”

Ian hums and turns to wrap his arms around Mickey. “I dunno. Some ideas, but everything we do could backfire.”

* * *

Once Lip arrives, with Carl hot on his heels, they all settle down in the living room to eat.

It’s kinda nice, Ian supposes. He’s always been a family man, but over the years it has felt like everyone grew apart, and they never made time for this stuff as much. It’s nice to just sit around and shoot the shit.

Of course, that’s all well and good, but like most times they spend just hanging out these days, there’s always gotta be a catch.

“So, was Fiona really that bad on the phone?” Lip asks as he tosses his empty plate unceremoniously onto the coffee table.

“Yeah,” Ian sighs. “It was pretty bad.”

“Jesus,” Lip breathes.

“D-don’t get me wrong,” Ian stammers, “I get why she left, and I sure fucking encouraged her to get out of here.”

“Don’t defend her!” Mickey cuts in. “She left you all in the lurch, and now she ain’t even trying to help you fix it.”

“I’m not defending her. I just wish I understood her.”

“Well, you know,” Lip muses. “She always went through phases of being a grade-A cunt. Maybe she’ll come around soon enough.”

Mickey fixes his gaze on Liam and tries to pick his words carefully. “I’m not sure we can wait that long, man.”

“Yeah,” Lip sighs. “Kev told me.”

“Guys. I’m right here, you know.” Liam grumbles. “I know what you’re talking about!”

“Sorry, bud.” Mickey winces. “I guess we kinda wanted to be able to shield you from all this.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Carl interrupts. “It’s all well and good to go round talking about the shit Fiona left behind, but we really need to focus on cleaning it up.”

Liam leans back in his chair and pulls his legs up onto the seat. “You think they’re gonna come and take me away?”

Ian, Lip, and Carl exchange glances, and Liam can tell they’re trying to sugar-coat it, but luckily Mickey interrupts before they can get their stories straight. “I don’t think so, kid, but it’s still a possibility.”

“Mickey,” Ian warns.

“No, he’s right. He deserves to hear the truth, not whatever bullshit you want to tell him to make him feel better.” Mickey turns back to Liam. “They’re probably gonna come by, but they’ve got their hands so full anyway that they’re not going to remove you from this house unless we give them a good fucking reason to.”

“The adults of this house are two parolees,” Lip points out. “That’s not going to work in your favour.”

Mickey glares across at Lip, and he can feel Ian giving a similar look from beside him.

“Hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to sugar-coat.” Lip holds his hands up in mock-surrender.

“Well, the judge was there when Debbie signed off on a guardianship order,” Ian starts.

“They don’t like taking kids from their families. Fuck knows Mandy, Iggy, and I should have been in the system way more than we were. They still kept bumping us back to Terry Milkovich’s House of Horrors.”

“Family matters,” Ian says to Liam. “If we’re in a stable situation, they’re not going to want to disrupt that if they can avoid it.”

“Okay. But are we?” Liam presses.

“Not yet.” Ian admits. “Which is why I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“We.” Mickey corrects absent-mindedly.

“ _We_ wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Are you sure you want to do this, Ian?” Lip interjects. “It’s a fucking big step and it could backfire massively.”

“I’m sure.” Ian turns back to Liam. “I think we need to terminate Fiona’s parental rights.”

“That’s it?” Liam asks. “Fucking do that then.”

“Language,” Mickey chides, through a laugh.

“We need to do that part anyway. The only thing is, that means Frank becomes your legal guardian again,” Ian grimaces.

“And good luck relying on Frank for… Well, anything.” Lip scoffs.

“Which is why,” Ian continues, “Mickey and I were thinking of applying for guardianship.”

“Permanently.” Mickey adds.

“Y-you don’t want to do that.” Liam stutters.

“Why not?” Mickey asks, leaning forward in his seat.

“You just got married! You should be planning to move out, get your own place, start your own family.”

“Kid, no-one’s gonna give two felons the time of day, let alone our own child.” Mickey laughs. “And even if they would, we don’t need to move out and start our own family. We need to stay here and finish this family first.”

“We want to,” Ian adds. “We ain’t going anywhere. We ain’t got anywhere _to_ go. We’re staying here with you and Franny no matter what. But if we applied for guardianship, it’d be a hell of a lot easier to keep you in this house.”

“Plus,” Carl interjects, “me and Debbie are both over 18 now. This ain’t gonna be like last time,” he promises.

“It won’t be plain-sailing,” Ian says, “and I’m not going to lie to you, you might have to spend a couple of nights in a foster home…”

“But we want to do it right,” Mickey finishes. “We need to make sure that once it’s all done, there is no chance in hell DCFS will come take you away.”

“Seven years is a long time, guys.” Liam mumbles. “I can’t ask you to put your lives on hold for me.”

“Fuck that!” Mickey laughs. “We’re not putting our lives on hold. We’re building our life together, and asking you to be part of that.”

Ian wraps an arm around Mickey’s back and rests his head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to say yes,” Ian says. “If you don’t want us to, we won’t do any of this shit. We’re still gonna be here. We’re still gonna look after you and Franny. We’re not going anywhere. You were too young to remember this, but nine years ago, Monica tried to take you away from this family. We fought to keep you here then, and we’re still going to fight to keep you here now.”

“And fuck, we are _never_ having you call either of us ‘dad’,” Mickey jokes. “There’s no amount of therapy in the world that could make us recover from that.”

Liam laughs at that. “You act like such a dad, though,” he retorts. “What if I can’t help it?”

“Just think about your dad fucking your brother,” Carl chimes in. “That oughta freak you out enough to cut it out.”

“What do you say, man?” Mickey asks once the laughter has died down.

Liam rolls his eyes, acting put-upon. “I guess you can adopt me. If you _really_ want to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life has been weirdly busy lately, so sorry about the late updates!
> 
> That said, it was a couple of emails with comments and kudos that reminded me to get back to this, so thanks for those!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have an update schedule set, so sorry about that. My tentative goal is to just get it done before S11 comes out and ruins it all.
> 
> Also: if I don't reply to your comment right away, sorry. I'm going to make an effort to reply to every comment from the previous chapter whenever I post a new one. :)


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